Hearts and Thrones
by chippedcupsonbakerstreet
Summary: Once Upon a Time in the Land of Westeros featuring the Storybrooke favourites. A wonderful medieval mixture of plots and ships. Arranged marriages, forbidden love and crimes of passion and betrayal. Featuring; Captain Swan, Rumbelle and more dastardly ships awaiting to set sail.
1. 1 GOLD

Gold

In recent years it had became a habit of his to caress with weather worn fingers the links that made up his Maester's chain. After loosing his son he had escaped to the citadel and had spent two decades trying to forget. He had immersed his troubled mind in scrolls and teachings, it was either that or take the black and everyone knew no more so than himself that the latter was impossible. He was a coward. He would remain branded one for the rest of his lifetime. He pushed his hair from his eyes to look up at the interminable Eyrie. Its stone trunk lifted high up into the grey clouds of dawn. His hired sell sword companion, the bane of his journey spat mucus at his feet and rubbed the snot that ran down his face in the bitter wind.

'You truly disgust me.' He complained his sibilant Celtic drawl more prominent when he was angry or frustrated.

'Don't worry Maester Gold the feeling is mutual. You'll be glad to know that I'm not going any further than this.' The sell sword replied and shoved a moth-eaten gloved hand in his direction. 'I'll take my payment now.' Maester Gold reached for his leather pouch that hung under his tunic. He might have despised the very presence of this man but there was no doubt that he had got him here safely. No other man would take him as far. It was too big a risk. He greased his palm with gold and with a curt nod turned from the man and walked toward his new home.

By the time he had reached the living quarters of the Eyrie he shook with nerves. His hand had continued to shake after the perilous journey up. The most horrific having to cross the narrow path that could only be travelled on a sure-footed donkey. Despite being in a young girl's capable hand he had nearly thrown the contents of his cold breakfast on his donkey's mane. He expected to be greeted by Lord Arryn upon arrival but the cold walls of the Eyrie were drenched in silence. His shoes echoed on the flagstones as he wandered the corridors in search of his new Lord. The Arryn banners flapped against the walls and Maester Gold thanked the Citadel silently for being stripped of his previous titles. A hasty cook bustled into him as he admired a tapestry.

'Watch where you're going you lumbering oaf.' She cursed when the sack of potatoes she was hauling tumbled to the floor.

'Excuse me, let me help you with those.' He said humbly and as his chain clinked when he bent the cook's anger turned to guilt.

'Oh forgive me Maester. I was in such a rush I didn't, if I knew…' He hushed her with a wave of his hand.

'No matter but do you know where I can find Lord Arryn?' He asked. He was exhausted after his journey and wished for the comforts of a bed and clean clothes.

'He is away on business but Lady Arryn his daughter is still here.' She picked the last dusty potato from the floor and planted it back inside the hessian sack.

'Can you point me in the direction of Lady Arryn? I would like to introduce myself.' His stomach unsettled once again at the prospect of introductions. He might have gained confidence through his years of learning but he still cowered when bundling into the unknown. The crow's feet that sagged beside her eyes danced as she laughed hoarsely.

'You find a book, you find Lady Arryn.' She continued chuckling to herself as she walked away. Maester Gold went to ask for an explanation but she had already waddled off. Having never visited the Eyrie before he had no clue where he was or where he could find, as the delightful woman called it, a book. As he made his way around the tower on blistered feet he stumbled into numerous rooms. The kitchen was dreary and the staff had stared at him with tired eyes, the study had been empty apart from dried up ink wells and various other rooms only contained empty musty beds. Yet he was still no closer to finding Lady Arryn. When the raven had arrived with the news of his referral he had at first disliked the idea of living in the Eyrie due to the extensive journey. He couldn't however, complain of its safety as the Eyrie was renowned for being impregnable and the Arryn's for not interfering in the scuffles over the throne. Exhausting of his own useless endeavors, Maester Gold tried a door that he had found at the top of a spiral staircase. The iron studded door was heavy and opened into a circular room. The room was respectfully warmer than the rest of the tower which was helped by the shelves of tomes and scrolls that lined the walls. Wheeled ladders were perched against them for the unreachable shelves that towered above him. He rounded the corner and there on top a ladder was a young woman balancing four books in her arms. He smiled as he remembered back to his days studying and stepped toward her. As he neared the young woman caught him out of the corner of her eye. Startled her feet slipped on the ladder rungs with the books crashing to the floor. The ladder wobbled underneath her and she gripped it too hard the weight of her making the ladder part from the shelf. Maester Gold ran toward her snatching her from the air as the ladder fell beside them. She looked up at him and his heart stopped. She was beautiful.

'Oh thank you…' Her voice brought life back to him. He put her down awkwardly her feet clopping loudly against the floor. His chain caught around a ribbon that had come loose from her dress. She chuckled at his shyness and her eyes widened when she saw his chain. 'Thank you for coming to my rescue Maester…?'

'Gold. Maester Gold and the fault was all mine Lady Arryn.' He bowed his head respectfully. She smiled and curtsied back which confused him as such manner was not needed for a humble Maester.

'Nonsense. I am lucky that it didn't happen sooner. I find it so laborious climbing up and down. I try to get as many books down at once but…I'm mumbling, I apologise. My father is away on urgent matters but I'm sure I can answer any questions you might have.' Her voice was so illuminating, humble and fresh. He had never met a woman so confident and yet curious.

'I would only trouble you on the whereabouts of my quarters.' He inquired politely and she laughed which he found oddly curious and infectious.

'Of course but you need not worry, you are in them. In one half of them anyway. The doorway through the back there is you're sleeping quarters. I promise you that I won't be intruding any longer.' She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and started gathering the fallen scrolls and books.

'Oh please let me.' Maester Gold insisted and hurried to clear them away before her. 'Let me assure you also that you are more than welcome to return here. Let not my coming heed you from your desire to read. In fact I would be intrigued into your thoughts on some in particular.' He was out of breath by the very presence of her and despite being Lady Arryn she held no difference toward his position.

'Well, thank you. I'll leave you rest now. I'm sure you are tired after your journey.'

'Then I bid you goodnight Lady Arryn.' He bowed once more and she smiled before she left which had left a permanent sear on his mind and heart.


	2. 2 REGINA

REGINA

The King might have been dead but Regina was smiling. Her cunning plans had undoubtedly been successful and she delighted in studying the pale and pained expression of her dead husband. The Queen left her place beside his body, with a veil trellising over her face. Black had always suited her and she admired her reflection in the holy font before she left the Sept. All days must be ruined however she sighed inwardly, and Regina rolled her eyes as her tear-stained step daughter blighted her view. She might have used her personal guard to escape the girl's wallowing misery but unfortunately she had to face her at some point during the day. As she moved to converse with her nemesis, the distraught Mary Baratheon embraced her sickly blonde betrothed. He stroked her hair lovingly as she cried into his shoulder, a sight that made Regina nauseous. She used to respect the fierce and determined Lannisters for their tenacity yet her step daughter had seemed to secure herself a kitten in comparison. He might have the skill of a knight and the look of a Lannister but no fire, no roar. Regina cleared her throat and braced her tongue for the cruel amount of lies she was about to spurt.

'May you find peace on this dreadful day.' She greeted her, slowly pulling back the veil to reveal a rehearsed frown on her distraught features. Mary quickly recovered, wiping the tears from her eyes not wanting to show her weakness. She failed miserably.

'Thank you your grace. I will be there to comfort her at this time of mourning,' David Lannister answered for her. The weak, heartfelt smile he offered only preceded to irritate her. 'I hope you also find peace on this tragic occasion.' He said with a bow of his head and to avoid further conversation he guided her away. Regina tutted with a new coming sense of boredom. It had taken weeks of carefully prescribed planning to kill him without even a thread leading back to her. Whatever would she do with her new found time?

'You realise there is no cure for guilt and regret,' A soft but patronising voice that Regina both despised and looked forward to hearing sounded from behind her. 'Although, I hear the Maester's efforts are perilous.'

'Lord Varys. I assure you that I have no idea of what you may be referring to.' She answered simply and innocently but her masking wouldn't fool a man of such knowledge. 'Come to pay your respects?' She inquired sarcastically. The slimy bald spider seemed to have appeared from no where as always.

'Oh most certainly. I know that our King will be sorely missed. The Seven Kingdoms will weep with despair.' His unmatched wit was a trait that they both seemed to share. Regina however, could never reveal the man behind the secrets or discover his true intentions.

'I'm sure they will.' She said curtly hoping that Varys had something interesting to tell her. That was the essence of these 'little chats' of theirs. He rarely sought her out for a discussion over the weather.

'I thought that her grace might want to know of her up and coming upheaval.' He quipped after leaving her stew in her suspicions for a few aching moments. He waited for her reaction, draping his robes over a hairless arm.

'Lord Varys you are a tease. I am the Queen of Westeros now.' She countered with a slight laugh. She had dealt with the only threat of her assimilation to the throne. His features were unwavering though and the Queen let a hint of doubt creep in causing her to frown. 'You cannot deny that…can you?'

'There has been speculation, that after the betrothal of Mary Baratheon and David Lannister they will claim the Iron Throne, not you.' The seriousness of his tone held the truth of the matter and Regina's blood boiled with all consuming fury. They take the throne! It was hers, she had made it so! Surely there was a mistake in this assumption? Her face remained the same despite her inward fuming, from the outside her features could only be perceived as serene and thoughtful. Since her arranged marriage Regina had become adept in being able to hide her true emotions. She would vent her fury later on some useless servant. Not wanting to see the mocking grin on his smug face Regina pressed forward with flip of her raven hair.

Regina wore black on the wedding of Mary Baratheon and David Lannister. She watched with undiluted misery as her lands and titles crumbled before her. She wasn't a seer but she could see her future crashing down before her. She will be pushed from her throne and quarters to some minuscule chamber. She will be stripped of her wealth and be made to watch as Westeros was ruled without her. The black and gold of Baratheon was replaced with the red and gold of Lannister. A quick exchanging of the cloaks and the couple were wedded with concluding cheers from the onlookers. All but one. There was no denying that Regina radiated happiness and enthusiasm but inside she was positively convulsing with hatred.

The feast was as loathsome as the ceremony. Entertainers had rejoiced with the Lords and Ladies of King's Landing and a mighty feast had been held in their honour. The only good thing about the event was the constant flow of wine. Regina was a fan of the Dornish wine and she had lost count after her fifth glass.

'Not even Dornish wine can obscure shame and regret.' Teased the voice of Petyr Baelish, who dismissed the Lord sitting next to her and sat stroking his facial goatee. She had yet to decide whether this man' worth was as promising as the Spider's. The man was as slippery as his adversary but at least his goal was evident. Power.

'What a coincidence, Lord Varys shared words along those lines. Be careful Lord Baelish or you may find yourself in the same position as my late husband.' Regina said behind her glass. How else would such a plan succeed without a little help? She sipped it slowly watching him with careful eyes.

'Did he now? Well great minds think alike they say. I however, have not come to gloat but come with something that might interest you,' His voice dropped down to a whisper as the bard finished his song. He began to play the Bear and Maiden Fair before Baelish started again. 'I have heard rumours your grace that will be as delicious to hear as the wine on your lips.'

'Go on.' She said not too eagerly knowing that most rumours turn out to be foolish words of some drunk. Little Finger would hear such things in his line of business.

'Now I hope that your grace remembers that it was I who told you this…' He started which instantly made the short strings of her temper start to crack.

'You snake, just get on with it.' She snapped the chords of the bard's lute adding to her frustration. The Hummingbird nodded a few times before continuing.

'There are sayings across the seas that a young woman corrupted by the magic of the undying is in fact the bastard of your innocent step-daughter.' He revealed, the words delighting on his tongue. Regina scoffed at his allegations but part of her wanted to believe that such a scandal were true.

'You mock me Lord Baelish.' She said in pretend outrage. He was right. She was certainly interested.

'Now both of us know that is not true. I wouldn't have brought this to your attention otherwise.' He flashed a grin, the golden pin of his hummingbird catching the light of the fiery sconces.

'Do you know the source of the rumour? I wish to dig a little deeper.' She said quietly as the bard finished again.

'Meet me at the Sept tonight and we will discuss the information further.' He whispered before getting up to leave. Regina looked over to the newly wed bride and groom. Their faces beaming with desiring love and endearment. Then she thought of the destruction she could bring to their lives if she could fetch this corrupted bastard to court. The smile that broke across her face was no act.


	3. 3 JEFFERSON

JEFFERSON

The Black Rose Tavern in Highgarden was full with the hungry customers waiting for Jefferson Tyrell to lose. They had been playing dice now for over three hours and he had cleaned out most of the takers with any spare coin. Jefferson was a dab hand with the dice (he didn't tell anyone that he had a specialist in King's Landing to make them loaded) and everyone groaned as he won a whole dragon from the landlord.

'You can't throw a seven four times in a row! That's impossible!' The gap toothed landlord whistled at him. Jefferson gave him one of his signature smiles and shrugged. This had been his most successful haul to date the night was not yet spent.

'I'm dreadfully sorry is that the sound of a man who can't afford to lose?' He teased flicking the dragon in the air and catching it in his palm. 'How about another go?' He offered but the man glared at him before retreating back behind the bar. Everyone then turned as a hooded man sulks into the tavern, a hood pulled over his head and scarf around his face so you couldn't see it at all. Someone who didn't want to be noticed. Hard luck for him.

'Ah a new challenger!' Jefferson called out seeing the bulging purse at his hip. The figure turned swiftly and at first Jefferson was a little taken a back. He was rather menacing... It seemed though that the man couldn't turn down a challenge and without saying anything put the two dragons on the table before him. 'Are you sure mate? I mean I am unbeatable in this town,' He laughed but the figure just sat opposite him and grabbed the dice. 'Roll an eight.' Jefferson said knowing that number wasn't possible with those dice. The gloved hands shook the dice and rolled them across the table, the whole room watched as they spun manically across the splintered table. It was an eight. 'That's impossible!' he shrieked.

'Oh aye? How is that then Tyrell? Unless you've been cheating us all night?' The landlord barked starting to rile up all those he had beaten. As most of them were smiths and all kinds of working men they were twice his size. A single hook with one of those fists and he would be singing like a maid for a long time.

'No! No! That's not what I meant at all.' He looked back and forth the landlord and the expectant winner and without a second thought grabbed his winnings and bolted from the table.

'Get after the cheating bastard!' The landlord hollered but Jefferson was quick and already out of the door before anyone knew what was going on. However, what he didn't know was that someone was also as quick and as he panted behind an alley a figure pounced on him knocking him into the mud. He would never be able to get these stains out! When he looked up he gulped. It was the man who had beaten him.

'Please forgive me, I- I have a daughter.' He pleaded as he saw the figure brandish a dagger. His attacker lifted him up and pushed him against the slimy wet wall and pulled down the hood and scarf. 'You...You're a…' He stammered.

'A monstrous beast that has come to feast on your flesh? No. Now I think you owe me some money don't you?' said his attacker whose long blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders with two smaller braids either side. It was dark but he could still make out the blue of her eyes that glinted like sapphires.

'A girl?!' He exclaimed struggling against the dagger that she pushed at the naked flesh of his throat. He couldn't die, he just couldn't! There was so much to live for and his daughter would forever make the top of that list.

'Woman.' She corrected him and she reached down at the drawstring at his side she rumbled inside and took out a dragon and then let it drop back.

'Wait? You're not going to take it all?' He asked, now utterly confused.

'I've coming for what I won, nothing more.' She handed him back the dice. 'You should be careful who you challenge.' She winked and released him before turning to leave. Jefferson smirked at the challenge of such a feisty female and run up to her.

'So where you off to now, you wondrous dice player?' He questioned, the fear that he had now replaced with curiosity.

'None of your business m'lord.' She said with a mock bow of her head. 'Shouldn't you be getting back to your fancy house?' she said.

'The Tyrell blood runs thin in me I'm afraid, in fact I would be a bastard if the King himself hadn't reinstated my name. Your name though… I would do a lot to find that out.' He teased rushing to stand in front of her.

'I suspect that you would, not that I'm going to give it to you. As you can see I'm trying to keep a low profile and I don't need some jumped up Tyrell knowing my business.' She quipped moving around him.

'Jumped up Tyrell, that is absurd. Maybe fanciful Loras is but me? Well that would be ridiculous.' He scoffed in pretend offense.

'You said you had a daughter?' The woman asked quietly carrying on as it started to pick to rain.

'Hang on how can you ask questions and you won't answer mine? Seems highly unfair,' He protested but he loved Grace. He could talk about her for hours upon end. His wonderful little girl. 'Yes I do, her name is Grace... but her mother died in childbirth.' He said hesitantly, the pain of her death was still rooted in him.

'You're obviously in some kind of debt.' She said a little saddened at the odd man's tragedy. Jefferson was startled by that quick summation.

'Yes, but I would like to know how you came to that conclusion.' He mused with a pointed finger before pulling back the collar of his shirt that was sticking to him as it dampened.

'Oh please, a wealthy man gambling with loaded dice in a tavern? You're more foolish than I thought.' She scoffed but that was when Jefferson got slightly angry. Not at her but with the frustration of his own situation. He had gotten his broken family into such a horrid mess and it wasn't a pleasant thing to grasp.

'You know I don't want to be gambling, I'm only doing it so Grace and I can stay in Highgarden! If I don't make up the coin of my debt then my house are making me re-marry.' He shouted at her but was shocked at his own outburst. He felt the need to impress her or to at least make him seem a decent fellow. Why had he told this strange assassin woman about that? The woman stopped and looked at him pitifully.

'I'm sorry; I know what its like to be forced to marry someone who you don't love.' She said and then clambering up onto a rooftop she was out of sight within minutes. Jefferson sighed, he didn't get her name after all.

Jefferson made his way back to his house. He had been moved out of the Tyrell estate after his debt problems became increasingly embarrassing. Although he couldn't complain, the house wasn't that demeaning. It still had over four bedrooms and Grace had been given a maid but it was more the shame of being here than anything else. He remembered the words of Olenna before he was moved.

'You come back either with a wife or with no debt it is simple Jefferson.' She had scorned him. She had hated his antics and his complete disregard for their house. He called out when he walked into the house that was still warm even after the sun had set.

'I'm home.' he said titling his head up the wooden stairs. He waited for a moment before he heard the creaks of wooden floor boards and Grace was running down the steps toward him.

'Papa!' She cried out and jumped into his arms. 'You've been gone all night.' She said with a frown but it quickly turned into a smile. 'I missed you.'

'I missed you more.' He told her carrying her back up the stairs. She looked up at him biting her lip as if she were debating on whether to tell him something. 'Go on,' He said drawing the words out playfully. 'What do you want to tell me?' He asked with a smile.

'Papa, I don't mind if you have a new wife.' She said innocently.

'Well I do Grace, what happens if she was old and mean and had an eye patch?' He didn't want to tell her that having to marry again was probably what was going to end up happening. He wouldn't be able to go gambling again to get the dragon he lost back and the rest of it was just pittance with the great amount of money he owed.

'You are silly.' She giggled and she bounced back into her bed. He watched her drift off to sleep and his thoughts wandered over marrying. Did it have to be a rich wealthy woman who would probably despise him? Or could it be someone like that woman he had met earlier?


	4. 4 KILLIAN

KILLIAN

A Greyjoy's home was on the sea, with the it's salty breath hissing on hardened cheeks. Life for those on the Iron Islands was hard and gruelling, everyday was a struggle. A struggle that they had always faced with honour and strength. That wasn't the life for Killian Greyjoy. He sought the adventure of the sea but not the hardships of the islands they called home. He wanted life to contain that uncontrolled excitement that was rarely found on the harrowed faces of the Iron born.

The disgraced son of Balon Greyjoy found what he needed once he had stolen a worthless ship from his father's fleet. How he managed to sail the ship alone across to Ironman's bay was even a mystery to him. The god of the waters must have been on his side. It was that tale that he told the Prince of the Narrow Sea. Salladhor Saan couldn't miss the opportunity of a Greyjoy in his ranks and had taken the young man under his wing with open arms. The life of a pirate suited Killian all too well and by the end of that year he had already secured a promotion to Captain with his own ship. The Jolly Roger. That had been ten years ago.

Westeros had recently been in a time of unrest due to the untimely death of the King. It had been a hard time for pirates when ships had no coin to transport their goods. The Royal Wedding however, had brought all manner of cargo ships across their way and after a successful taking he thought it only proper to celebrate in the usual fashion…

'Salladhor will not be amused to see you wasting time like this when you should be sailing across to the Free Cities.' Smee whined anxiously twisting the red linen of his head scarf through his hands.

'Let the Pirate Prince know…I'm sure…he will gladly join me…' Killian said absently as the tavern girl's lips kissed teasingly at the nape of his neck as she began to unlace him. 'Are you going to stand there and watch?'

'Captain, I honestly think we should go…you should go.' The older yet more innocent man's eyes widened as the girl started to unlace herself and he quickly put a hand over his eyes.

'Your answer can be found in that one word Smee. I'm the Captain and I say when we leave.' His statement was finished with a sigh of pleasure as her hands caressed across his chest.

'I say you leave now,' Salladhor smirked from the doorway and gestured for Smee to go with a small pat on the man's back. 'You can have your fun once you secure the prize from Pentos.' He pulled Killian back from the bed, the ex Greyjoy fumbling with his trousers as he struggled to hold them up.

'You disappear into King's Landing for some unknown purpose and come back speaking of a prize across the sea, that will earn us the biggest reward in gold that a pirate has ever laid eyes on?' He scoffed, not bothering with the buttons of his shirt. The Pirate Prince had come back with gold practically glinting in the sweat of his eyes.

'Exactly, you'll be a good man and collect the prize that will have been dropped off at the dock and then you can wet your appetite on more than just a tavern girl,' Saan promised but as he spoke he moved to the bed in Killian's place. 'Now off you go. Oh and the package…you can look but not touch' He batted his hand for him to leave with a smirk.

'Whatever this 'package' is it better be worth my time. He has just sneaked his way into the woman I paid good money for!' Killian grumbled as sauntered up the gangplank. He was proud that Saan had chosen him to accomplish the task but that didn't mean that he would enjoy doing it.

'He hasn't really been too specific on the details has he Captain?' Smee offered following behind him in hope that the previous occurrence had been forgotten.

'He hasn't told me anything! For all I know I'm collecting a three legged pig that's been blessed by the Seven.' He sighed and sidestepped around a man rolling a barrel across the deck. This was home for the accomplished pirate. It was rumoured that the man loved his ship more than women but that one had never been proved. The skies were clear and the waters were calm, so he barked orders to set sail immediately. He didn't want to wait for the bad weather to strike.

Unfortunately for him the decent weather didn't last. The rest of the journey to the Free Cities had been gruelling to say the least. With each passing storm that hit them Killian became more irritable about the whole affair. Still, he hadn't been made the Captain for no reason. Under his experienced command his crew had pulled through the waves expertly. When they arrived in Pentos it was if the entire ship sighed with relief.

'You have till noon before we set sail once again,' Killian announced before his crew wandered off. He was met with groans but he waved them off. 'Quieten down you whining sea bastards! My objective was to pick up a package from Pentos and return as soon as the weather permits. If anyone wants to complain then complain to Saan when we dock back at Blackwater.' They all stopped then and shoved and pushed each other off the gangplank and into the bustling market.

'Captain Greyjoy do I have to look after the ship again? Its just I've never been to Pentos and…' Smee asked tentatively from the bottom deck looking up at him from his place at the helm.

'I do not trust the slimy dock traders here. You'll stay here, there's nothing you're missing trust me,' He answered with a dastardly grin and started into the port. 'I'll bring you back a souvenir Smee!' He called back with a hearty laugh.

Pentos had many wares to offer. The harsh, thick and accented sellers shouted at him from behind their stalls offering all sorts of unwanted items. He had turned down the carved statues of every god that could be named, a luck pendent apparently crafted from dragon glass and wine imported from all corners of the land. If he had the coin to spare he would have bought the wine but Salladhor was holding back on the pay until after this mission. At the end of the port was the slave market that still thrived in the Free Cities. He was about to turn back knowing he had come too far when a man grasped his shoulder.

'You be Saan's boy?' He asked his bald head glistening with the sweat of the sun. The man reeked of fragrant oils that almost overcame the assortment of slaves behind them. Almost.

'I am Captain Greyjoy, a member of the Pirate Prince's fleet aye.' He nodded looking about for the prize that he might possess to be taken back to Westeros.

'I have his shipment for ya if you would come with me.' He beckoned him with a finger over to the slave pen. Killian didn't understand, why was he heading toward the slaves? They were forbidden back in Westeros. Did Salladhor want him executed?

'I hope you are not trying to sell me a slave knowing that I cannot accept.' He said gruffly following behind him. The man didn't answer him immediately but led on to where a figure sat tied to a post. A sack was placed over their head and was slumped uselessly against the tight bonding.

'Not a slave Captain but a prisoner. You will be escorting this prisoner back to Salladhor Saan as requested by the…' He stopped himself before he said anything more. Killian raised a quizzical eyebrow at the man before reached forward to remove the sack. Long golden curls greased with dirt and blood fell from underneath; wet with the humid air of the sack. The gagged woman was beautiful despite the swollen and blood crusted nose and lip. Her blue eyes still shone with fiery tenacity as she stared up at him.

'I have been given no information about this woman. Can I ask that of you?' He asked the stranger his gaze still on her.

'A bastard tainted with the magic of the Undying. That is all you need to know,' The bald man kicked the woman to make her stand. She groaned slightly through the gag as he bent her arms back to unhook her bonds from the post. 'She's all yours Captain…well she's Saan's anyway. See that she gets to Westeros alive.' He gripped her by the hair and pushed her toward him. The prisoner stumbled into him but jerked away as he moved to touch her. Not having time for games the pirate reached out for her and pulled her close.

'Listen closely now, this journey can either be smooth and peaceful for you or it can be the worst that you will ever make. It all depends on how you treat your dear Captain and you will address me as such while aboard my ship do you understand?' He threatened and her glare had a flicker of defeat as she continued to look him straight in the eye. 'Now when I remove this gag I want you to tell me your name and then we can be on our way.' He pulled it down and she retched a little, spitting out flecks of blood and spit before looking once more back up at him.

'Go to hell you pirate bastard!'


	5. 5 BELLE

BELLE

'Tell me more of your chain Maester.' The forever curious Belle Arryn asked, forgetting the strict formalities of highborn life and leaning against the palm of her hand. Her goblet was still full with the wine which accompanied their meal and the flames of the fire flickered in the purple liquid.

'I am sure that you already know of the links that forge a Maester's chain milady.' He answered assuredly. It had been nearly a week since his arrival and Belle had enjoyed his easy company. The man was full of the knowledge that she craved but she had yet to crack into the intriguing man's past. A Maester's past was usually a close guarded secret but she was thrilled by a challenge.

'I may…' Belle trailed off biting her lip before it formed a small smile. 'I would still like it if you told me.' She persisted, her smile growing with warmth. She had grown fond of the soft rumbling tones of his voice.

'There's isn't much to tell I'm afraid. Each link was spent in between tomes and scrolls and a life's worth in candles.' Maester Gold replied simply. She narrowed her eyes before rising from her chair. He went to rise also but she moved quickly around the oaken table to sit him back down.

'I won't have you leave the table until you tell me.' She teased playfully with her hands on his shoulders before seating herself beside him. She could see he was hesitant with that rather awkward smile that he managed and the faint but notable stiffness when she touched him. Belle paid no heed however and continued by leaning in and selecting a ring. She mused as she tried to recognise it, turning it in her fingers.

'Black iron,' He said quietly, quiet enough to become a whisper. 'I spent several months in the raven tower for that one. Not the most peaceful of places in the Citadel.' His guarded brown eyes were becoming weaker as he watched her. Her eyes were downcast on the link in her fingers but he knew the colour of the summer sky was hidden behind those lashes.

'I have always been in two minds on the subject of ravens,' She mused idly. 'They're our messengers, our source of political knowledge and communication…'

'But?' He urged curiously.

'But that power is more than often abused. I wouldn't like to count how many innocent lives have been taken over words on parchment,' She sighed and looked up to him for him only to avoid eye contact and select another link. 'Silver.' She stated knowing exactly the purpose of that one.

'The link of healing.' He started with a small clearing of his throat. 'It is considered to be the Maester's necessity. Of course it is classed as our main purpose by the houses of Westeros.'

'Our Knights of the Mind,' Belle smiled and she was rewarded with a faint laugh from him. He had barely laughed during his time in the Eyrie so far and she had taken to the task of coaxing them from him. She didn't think he was aware of it but his hand travelled absently to a link and she took his hand that held it in his. 'Valyrian steel? You studied the magical arts Maester?' She gasped in awe. It was a rare and yet not very sought after link.

'Y-Yes indeed I did…' The man stammered slightly at her touch before recovering. 'If I care to admit it, it was the most fascinating and out of all the courses I studied my most favourable.'

'I have only glanced upon the poetic scriptures that discuss such a thing. My father's books tend to focus on the foils of war and historical accounts. Not that I mind reading them.' She shrugged.

'It is frowned upon by most and isn't considered useful. Well, that can only be said of those who haven't mastered it.' His words were slow and purposeful but his usual calm exterior was becoming slightly flustered.

'It seems that it is even a difficult concept to grasp even for the broad minded,' Despite her eyes being solely focused on the specialised metal, she found her thumb gently circling the worn skin of his hands. A small but not uncomfortable silence fell between them before she let go and stood up, flattening the creased folds of her blue dress. 'Forgive me Maester; I have spent too long under lock and key in this dreadful keep. I bid you goodnight.' She inclined her head before hastening out of the room not daring to look back.

Once she had escaped far enough, Belle placed a hand on the thick stone walls to gather her muddled thoughts. What had she been thinking? Was it her fault that she had been captured into the lulling of his voice or had been overcome with the challenge of him? She was acting most inappropriately with the Maester…the Maester! A man sworn into learning to protect and advise the realm. It would have to stop…if she could help it that was.

'Lady Arryn, a messenger from Castle Black wishes to seek audience with your father.' A servant from the guardhouse gushed as he found her. 'I have told him that Lord Arryn isn't present but he insists. What shall I tell him?' It was rather late to be taking meeting but Belle wouldn't mind. A man of the Night's Watch should be commended and respected.

'I will meet with him in my father's study.' Belle answered and without a moment more she made haste toward it. Once inside she lit the candles at his desk and sat in the high backed chair waiting for the arrival. The knock came not long after, strong and steady and she bade him entrance.

'Apologies milady. Yoren of the Night's Watch. Had I known I wouldn't have requested such an inconvenient time.' The man with a grizzled beard and blacks greeted as he entered, closing the door behind him. Belle waved off his apology with a smile.

'Be seated Yoren, what is it that you wished to discuss with my father? As his daughter and heir of the Eyrie I think it only fitting that I attend his duties in his absence.' She said with confidence. She had to be strong when dealing with matters of the realm.

'I am a recruiter milady. I humbly request any men for our cause. As ever the strength is needed to protect the people of Westeros from what lies beyond the wall.' He spoke the words as if they had rolled from his tongue countless times.

'There are four men in the sky cells facing death for their crimes. You are welcome to them ser. Will that be all?' She asked, desperately holding back the urge to yawn.

'Gracious thanks milady. The men will be put to good use at the Wall.' Yoren began and he seemed to pause as if in two minds whether to speak again. 'Before I bid my leave, I happened on your Maester on my way here…'

'Maester Gold has only just recently joined us. A fine addition to our House I would say.' She had pleasure in saying it although judging by the look on Yoren's face he didn't seem to think so. 'You think not?'

'I do not wish to speak ill of a Maester but before that he was a man. A man I knew and wouldn't care to know again. Be careful milady, a snake lies beneath those chains.' He rose and bowed his head respectfully. 'With your leave?' He asked not wanting to elaborate on the matter. Belle nodded wordlessly and the recruiter left the study leaving her in silence.


	6. 6 JEFFERSON

JEFFERSON

'Please stop looking so sad Papa. This lady will not like you without your smile.' Grace scolded him as she buttoned up his doublet. Jefferson forced a small smile for her benefit but that didn't quell the overwhelming sense of fear and failure that had built up over recent weeks.

'I don't want her to like me. I want her to take one look at me and utterly refuse.' He pouted. It was almost as if he were the child in this situation. They had both taken the news of possibly suiting a lady of a prominent house very differently. Grace narrowed her eyes at him playfully before moving a stool at his feet. Taking the gold, rose stitched scarf she stood on the stool so she could tie it about his neck.

'That would be impossible. You look far too handsome for her to refuse you.' She said simply and stepped down for a moment to unwrap the jewelled rose brooch from the silk handkerchief on the bed. It was the only precious item that he hadn't sold to try and clear his debt.

'Grace.' Jefferson sighed with a soft blush. 'You understand that if she doesn't then our lives are going to change.' That was what he feared the most. A new wife would also mean children and heirs and goodness knows what else. Olenna had deliberately kept him in the dark of the proposal she had set up for him. She didn't want to give him an excuse to complain.

'You do what you have to do Papa. I understand,' She smoothed the creases in his shirt and admired her handiwork. 'If she doesn't like you I will eat your boots.' She giggled and kissed his cheek before hopping back down.

At noon Jefferson was met with the calculating stare of Lady Olenna Tyrell. Grace was in the care of their maid and he had been ordered to meet with his step mother back at the luxurious gardens of the Tyrell home. She studied him for what seemed an age and gave a small nod of approval.

'That will have to do I suppose.' She said in her usual clipped manner and hastened her arm in his and practically dragged him across the gravel path toward the already gathered crowd. For a step mother she was fair. Instead of cursing her husband for his disloyalty she had thought of Jefferson as another opportunity of branching out their line of power. His first marriage was tragically short lived and she had been anxious to get him remarried ever since.

'Why are all these people here? I thought this was going to be a private affair?' Jefferson bent down to whisper quickly. He thought he was just going to be meeting a woman but it seemed there was a formal party going on. Typical.

'Keep that mouth of yours shut and just do as you are told Jefferson. I won't have this ruined.' She answered ignoring his actual question. She walked him over to who Jefferson instantly recognised as Lord Selwyn Tarth. She parted from him with her hand outstretched so that the Lord could take it.

'Lady Olenna, you are as ravishing as your gardens.' He greeted with a light kiss of her hand. He watched Jefferson from the corner of his eye but his thoughts were masked by a neutral countenance.

'Lord Selwyn, this is my husband's useless bastard son.' Lady Olenna began and Jefferson couldn't help but choke at her words. That was surely a disastrous way to offer a proposal? 'His name was however, reinstated by our recent King. He holds the name Tyrell and he bears it proudly. He is awkward and at times absurd but considerate and kind…for a man. He is fair and respectful and he will make an honest woman of your daughter.' She finished with a curt nod. She was known for being blunt and honest with the truth. Despite the previous insults Jefferson was quite humbled by her last words.

'I am eager to join our houses.' Lord Selwyn said after studying Jefferson for a few moments. 'You have made good use of your motto Lady Olenna and I have respect for the growing rose. My eldest has been very recently engaged but my youngest will suit him well.' He spoke to her not Jefferson and he knew she wouldn't be particularly happy about being second best. It would have to do though.

'I am honoured that you think so my lord.' Jefferson inclined his head managing a smile. Lord Selwyn turned and beckoned from the crowd a young girl with drawn back blonde curls. There was something about her that seemed familiar and his heart was leaping out of his chest. Now was the time that he wished she would reject him and leave him and Grace to live alone, but he wasn't that lucky. The girl, who couldn't have been older than eighteen approached with her freckled cheeks ripening with a blush.

'May I present to you my youngest daughter Nila. Nila, you are to be wed to Lord Jefferson Tyrell. I think you may want to spend some time with him.' Lord Selwyn said no more and took Lady Olenna's hand and guided her around to the fountain to discuss further matters. That left them alone. His step mother was right, he was awkward and as Jefferson looked at the pretty young girl with a weak smile he felt at a complete loss. She wasn't that much older than Grace. He couldn't do this…

'If I may say so milord you are most handsome.' Nila bit her lip as her face crinkled into a nervous but happy smile. Jefferson's ears burned and his heart sank, he felt so sorry for her. She should be falling in love with a young boy of her age and experiencing the world and yet she was now stuck with him.

'Please Nila, call me Jefferson but someone as young and pretty as you are deserves better. I'm sorry.' He sighed but it seemed the only part she paid attention to was the compliment which she took with a smile and cast her eyes downward.

'I'm old enough to be your wife Jefferson.' Nila assured him looking back up at him, her blush only now receding. 'I hope I'll serve you well and-'

'Oh don't talk like that Nila. You will be my wife not my servant.' Jefferson corrected her gently wishing her to know that from the start. He watched as her confusion turned to delight.

'I'm ever so happy that I have been chosen for you! My sister will be most pleased when she hears it.' She enthused stepping toward him. Her smile dipped when she saw that Jefferson didn't seem as excited as she did. 'Are you not pleased with me milord?' She asked her voice quiet and anxious.

'How could I not? Don't mistake my hesitancy for displeasure,' The last thing he wanted to do was upset the poor girl. He had loved once…maybe he could love again? He took her hand gently in his and bent so he could find and stay in her eyes. 'You are beautiful; I would be honoured for you to be my wife.' A smile found its way back to her lips and Jefferson noticed that her hand had trembled before he had taken it. She must be terrified in knowing what was to be ahead of her. He was before his first marriage.

'My father wishes to have a duel wedding and it is to be soon…' She trailed off as her small fingers traced along his. In her beauty there was innocence and he could tell that any other man might have mistreated her for that.

'Do you know how soon?' Jefferson asked trying not to sound nervous again. Everything was moving so fast. That was the problem with arranged marriages, always a rush to the Sept.

'No, you see it all depends on when…there she is now!' Nila enthused as she must have spotted someone from behind him. 'Alice!' She called over and as he turned to face whoever Alice may be, Mila placed her other hand on Jefferson's arm. 'Jefferson, this is my older sister Alice. Alice this is my husband to be Lord Jefferson Tyrell.' She beamed. Jefferson meanwhile had completely frozen at the woman who had hastened toward her sister with a wide smile. There was a reason why Nila had seemed familiar. She looked a lot like her sister. She had that brief flicker of surprise in her eyes but she didn't act upon it.

'Good day milord. Nila how is it that you have the pleasure of a handsome rose as a husband?' She teased. Jefferson wanted to gape but he thought it best if he continued with this charade.

'Only the best for the prettiest daughter of Tarth.' Jefferson quipped to which Nila giggled, blushing profusely. Alice on the other hand raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing across her lips. The same one she had worn after pulling down her hood that night. The night she had bested him a dice.


	7. 7 EMMA

EMMA

EMMA

I am nothing. I am no one. That was what she had been told continuously ever since she could remember. It had become her way of dealing with the haunting memories that pursued her in both reality and the world of dreams. Blue lips, coldness, pain and never remembering. It had become a routine that she had been forced to dutifully follow. The unknown princess would wake up different after every experimental encounter with magic, always older, but she had never questioned it. She had never known any different.

That was until she had been taken. The men had come for her with their knives and snarls but despite fighting and almost killing one of them her resistance had been futile. Battered, bruised and on the verge of being beaten she had been transported like chained cattle to the slave market of Pentos. Her nameless guardians had taught her letters and words and she had read of the noble knights and past kings of the Seven Kingdoms. She had not wished for a noble knight to come and rescue her, she had wished that the fat, foul smelling pig of a man had come near enough so she could have kicked him in the balls. Neither came to pass, instead she had been passed on as if she were a dog to a not so harsh but equally as loathed pirate.

Emma had changed her mind. She hated the goddamn sea! She had once before glimpsed it through her window and had longed to see it up close. Not anymore! She now longed for sweet dry land as her hands gripped the bucket that smelled of both soap and old vomit. She had already knocked her head on the small stacked bunks of the cabin she had been put in and the _Captain _had left her with nothing but a bucket as he left to set sail. The ship lurched over yet another wave and she could hold it in no longer. She fell to her knees that scraped on the wooden boards and retched up what little contents she had in her stomach. Every time she had recovered from her heaving another wave would strike.

'Someone is going to get punched for doing this to me.' She grumbled to herself not bothering to wipe the spittle from her chin. As if her hair wasn't bad enough, the dirtied tips of her blonde hair now reeked along with the added contents of the bucket. She might have imagined it but she was sure a head had peeped inside before bustling back out again. 'I am nothing. I am no one.' She repeated and breathed deeply to try and curb the nausea before the sound of voices interrupted the silence.

'You put me right off my food you know that?' She heard the arrogant Captain quip from close by. She let out a small groan and cursed under her breath. She wasn't in the mood to argue with him, why couldn't he just leave her alone? Wasn't it bad enough already?

'B-but but Captain she's, she's…'

'Hurling her guts up. I know, you did tell me Smee, right down to the last minute detail.'

'I just thought you should know that's all I didn't mean to…'

'A bit late for apologies now don't you think?'

'So…aren't you going to…?'

'What?' The Captain asked as if he had no clue to what the other man was alluding to. The answer was a mumble that Emma couldn't quite make out. 'By the gods Smee I am not her damned maid! She's a prisoner and if she wants to retch all night then let her. She'll get used to it sooner or later,' The remark was met by silence with no answer from the other voice or at least Emma didn't hear one. Then when the silence stretched she was relieved to know that they had left.

She hadn't expected anything less. To him she was nothing more than a package to be delivered. He wouldn't pity her and she didn't want it either. She didn't know how much later it was when a knock sounded on the cabin door. It was a soft knock so she guessed it must be the man who had been worried about her. She didn't say anything but her eyes travelled up from the bucket to watch the door. The soft knock repeated but a little harder.

'Why am I even knocking? It's my bloody ship,' The voice scoffed as the door opened and the Captain stalked inside with a bottle in hand. 'An annoying little birdie with a red hat told me you're dirtying up my nice swabbed decks.'

'Leave me alone.' She spat glaring at him before looking away. Why did this incessant man insist on making her situation even worse? She was being treated as a slave and being shipped far from home. She was scared but she didn't want to admit it.

'Quite the step up from pirate bastard now don't you think?' She saw his smirk and rolled her eyes. She thought if she didn't say anything he would just leave. 'You still haven't told me your name beautiful.'

'Shut up and I never will! It doesn't make any difference to you what my name is.' Emma snapped and looked down from his stare as she wiped her chin.

'I could always make you?' He mused sticking his lip out in thought. It should have been directed as a threat but it didn't sound like one. She was still angered by the comment though and she leaned across the bucket to face him.

'Now you listen to me _Captain, _I don't know why all of this is happening to me. No one will even tell me! By the Seven I'm no one special, I'm no one important. Yet I've been beaten and taken from everything I know and being shipped to… I don't even know where.' Emma couldn't hold back her frustration anymore but her throat was raw and she didn't like how her voice was breaking. Her outburst was soon followed with the need to heave again and she doubled over the bucket as she did. 'Why are you still here?' She asked exhausted from the seasickness.

'Drink some of this, I find it settles the stomach,' His voice was commanding but not harsh and he pulled up a stool opposite her. He offered her the bottle that he held in his hand and she took it hesitantly wiping the rim of the bottle with her fingers. 'I don't have a disease that I know of.' He tutted and raised an eyebrow at her.

'Give me one good reason why I should trust you?' She retorted the bottle hovering at her lips. She waited as she watched him muse over the answer. He scratched at the clipped beard at his jaw and studied her, it was a look that she wasn't sure if she liked because she didn't understand it.

'You should be grateful that it was me who was asked to fetch you. Any other man I know would have had a beauty like you between his legs by now, no questions asked.' His words were slow and emphatic and darn right typical. She let the bottle drop to her side and shook her head incredulously.

'Grateful? What so you want me to applaud your ability to keep it in your trousers?' She scoffed, dripping in sarcasm.

'Yes actually, a spot of appreciation wouldn't go amiss. A pirate's sword yearns to be flourished. It can become quite painful at times.' He was teasing her and if she wasn't feeling exceedingly awful she would have punched him.

'If it's that painful then I don't think pirates should have swords.' Emma countered but his rascally smirk only widened. 'Now get lost and go eat your food.'

'What? You don't like spending time with the generous Captain?' He gave her a bottle of whatever it was and suddenly he thought them best of friends? Idiot.

'The Captain is many things but not generous. He is insufferable.'

'Oh I don't know about that…'

'Arrogant.'

'Most definitely.'

'Self-centred.'

'Who isn't?'

'Tactless.'

'Where did you get-'

'Inconsiderate.'

'You've known me five minutes!'

'Unattractive.'

'What?! C'mon are you blind? That's it; I draw the line at that love.' He stood up suddenly with a wave of his hands. She noted the not so well hidden look of hurt that glimpsed in his eyes and she was surprised that he hadn't taken it with laughter as he had the other insults.

'Don't call me that.' She said simply and scrunched up her nose as she felt yet another wave of nausea. Remembering the bottle she swigged and gulped down the liquid squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the burn and waited for the soothing effects that he'd promised. Nothing. She held the bottle to her lips once more.

'You shouldn't drink it so fast…are you listening to me…you're going to make yourself sick again...whoa hold up now!' He had spoken quietly at first but got increasingly louder and more annoyed…more concerned? Emma had drowned out his words as she continued until he had snatched the bottle from her grasp. 'And you called me insufferable?'

'Give it back, it was helping!' She argued stumbling to get up from the floor. The alcohol had warmed her and soothed her throat and she wanted more.

'I said drink some not down the whole bottle. This is my own private stock this is!' He gestured holding it up but away from her. Emma swayed and the quick effects of the alcohol were beginning to take hold. 'You look terrible.' He observed with a frown.

'I don't feel well.' She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself.

'Well I'm not surprised you…' He cut off when she staggered and tripped over the bucket sending the contents flushing across the floor and onto his boots. He cursed but quickly placed down the bottle to catch her before she fell to the vomit ridden floor.

'I don't feel well.' She repeated queasily that was muffled against his chest.

'You ruined my boots.' He answered and lifted her so that her head hung over his shoulder. 'And you are cleaning this up in the morning.' He added stepping carefully to leave the cabin.

'No.'

'No? No, I think you are. Just wait till you're not puking.' He warned her but Emma was shaking her head her hair flicking in his face. That's not what she meant.

'No, you're not unattractive.' She mumbled before she collapsed.


	8. 8 REGINA

REGINA

There was one thing that Regina loved about her step-daughter and that was her complete lack of judgement. The girl's naivety enabled the former Queen to do as she wished and the sickening couple didn't know any different. Idiots. Oh if only they knew what she had planned for them. That bastard brat of theirs will be in her hands soon, Salladhor Saan had better not disappoint. Lord Baelish had suggested that they use more of secretive way of transferring the tainted child back to Westeros where she belonged.

David and now Mary Lannister were living their perfect lives and staying far from Regina as possible. That being said however, the newly weds still had the ability to anger her furiously. Varys had taken too much pleasure in delivering the news that her place on the small council had been replaced by that bug of a Penrose. A man of a lesser house taking her place!? She had demanded to know as to the reasoning but the spider had merely shrugged. She knew all too well that it would have been him who had suggested it. He must have heard of her exploits with his little fingered rival.

'If anyone asks I am at the Sept,' Regina muttered absently as she admired her new dress. It wasn't hard to manipulate the Master of Coin. Not hearing even a grumble of an answer from her personal guardsman she turned raising an eyebrow. She could tell by studying the knight's eyes and the tightness around his jaw that he was inwardly seething, despite staring ahead blankly. 'You weren't so silent last night Ser Graham.' She teased sultrily and she smirked victoriously when his eyes snapped to hers.

'I will do as you ask milady.' He said curtly with an incline of his head. Ser Graham was a rather handsome member of the Kingsguard. Previously he had been a young wolf of the North but a royal visit had him soon taking his vows. A quiet word in her husband's ear had worked in her favour back then.

'Come now Graham, there are no spiders in my private quarters. I thought we were past such formalities.' Regina tutted as she moved to run her nails lightly across the beard that graced his chin. The same that she loved to feel tickle across the nape of her neck.

'When were you going to tell me?' He asked a little gruffly for her liking. She braced herself for some ill spread rumour that had been going around. Graham had been her only release from her husband, to experience pleasure that wasn't forced on for a drunken fool. The reluctant knight had at first politely declined her advances. A King could whet his appetite with the local whores but the gods forbid that the Queen do the same. He came around soon enough, she could be very persuasive.

'I assure you that I do not know what you may be referring to.' She replied tracing the embossed patterns of his armour. She honestly didn't as it could be many things that she hadn't divulged with her secret lover. His disloyalties would only stretch so far with such an honourable man as Ser Graham. If he heard of her scheme he would try and dissuade her. That wasn't going to happen.

'Regina, don't play me for a fool. I know where you go when you say you are at the Sept.' His face was hard set but had tones of underlying concern.

'Be careful what you say, dear,' Regina warned, her hand instantly retracted from the gold of his breastplate. She didn't admit to anything knowing that he could not possibly know. She had always been so careful on those visits. 'You are meddling where you shouldn't be.'

'Isn't that what your banished Maester does down in the hidden cells? Meddling in practices that got him expelled from the Citadel?' Graham accused and Regina's calm countenance flared with anger. How had he found out? He would escort her halfway and then she would disappear and return to him an hour later.

'How did you come by this information!? I will not have you accuse me of such things, have you been conversing with Varys? If you have Graham I swear…' If this was the work of Varys yet again than her already weakened position at King's Landing would be finally silenced at the clean swipe of Ser Illyn Payne's blade. Engaging with a banished Maester could possibly be deemed worthy of punishment, but it would be what the Maester may tell them if he were found that would seal her fate.

'Lord Varys? I avoid him as you ask. You cannot deny this and you are making yourself out to be a fool if you continue with this charade.' Graham had never been so forceful with her before. She wasn't sure if it were because he knew of her diminished power or if he was becoming too comfortable in their relationship.

'Tell me where you heard of such a thing! Now Graham before I lose patience.' She demanded because if it wasn't Varys then that could be even more dangerous.

'I heard of it from no one.' Graham revealed after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. He knew not to anger her but what he had to say would probably do that. 'I was assigned yesterday to the cells when you dining with the King and Queen. I was told that there had been prisoners going missing before execution and no one knew how or why.'

'Can we skip to the part that I actually care about?' She insisted stiffly but noted that if he had known this since yesterday … he hadn't told anyone else. Perhaps she had underestimated his loyalty to her? Graham let out a small sigh before continuing.

'I offered one of the prisoners a trip to the wall instead of death and he graciously offered to tell me what he had seen the other night. Apparently a Maester keeps coming in the dead of night between the guard changes and makes off with men. They never come back but he said he sometimes hears screaming through the walls.'

'You listen to the ramblings of mad men facing the sword? You are too naïve Ser and to think you accuse me of harbouring the fugitive?' She laughed mockingly at him hiding the nervousness that invaded her mind.

'You need to curb that Maester's tongue Regina, he spoke of pleasing you when he stole the latest one. The prisoner heard your name being mentioned.' He added grimly, not even a smirk of triumph. How she hated this man sometimes. He felt betrayed by her secrets and didn't even take pleasure in unmasking them. What did he expect? It was her and her alone playing this game. The politics of the Iron Throne were not unknown to her. She had been a playing ever since her mother's arrangement of marriage. She thought of denying it once again but seeing as this man had shared her bed countless times she felt her barriers breaking.

'The man is under my protection. You will not tell anyone of this Graham. Not if you want to be the one propping my head on the battlements.' She wouldn't look her best that was for sure with her bloodied head dripping from a spike. Oh but best not forget that the good Queen had banned such practice. She might not enjoy Regina's head mounted but once she was Queen once more and ruling solely she would take immense pleasure of reinstating that practice just for her.

'You think so little of me that I would do such a thing?' The knight protested obviously hurt by the statement. Regina had to remember that she had been his first lover. The young wolf had spent his years in the training yard not in the whorehouses. 'I haven't told anyone, I hoped I could persuade you to…'

'Please don't,' Regina rolled her eyes and held up her hand. She knew it was only a matter of time before that sentence had poured from his lips. 'Don't try and change the decisions I have already made. Trust that I have a perfectly plausible reason for what I am doing.' She finished curtly.

'You won't tell me the reasoning?' He asked almost knowingly. He didn't believe that she would tell him. So he did know her well enough then?

'The less you know then the better it is for you. Believe it or not I don't wish blame to be pressed on you if it came to that.' A little sentimental for a part time lover but it was the truth. He had been good to her where her husband hadn't.

'If someone were to find out about this!' He fumed stepping around her to stand closer to the fire. The fire that had burned there now reduced to mere cinders.

'I've kept our little secret well enough haven't I?' She countered. Ser Graham was a secret that she kept close to her heart. Guarded well against the little birds and ears that overwhelmed the capital and that was no easy feat.

'But if they found out?' He repeated insistently.

'They won't,' Regina said simply, spinning slowly to follow him. Although that prisoner couldn't go to the wall. He would have to be dealt with swiftly and she would slap Maester Whale for putting her in this predicament. 'Not unless this stays between us.'

'It will.' He answered, finally turning back to look up at her a little defeated. Regina smiled once more. Ser Graham finding out had almost given her an element of relief. Having to carry so much weight on her shoulders was hard and even if he didn't know everything she was glad they shared the load. Of course that would be where her divulgence would end. No talk of magic tainted, scandalous bastards.

'If anyone asks I am at the Sept.' She repeated slowly with a smirk appearing on her lips. Graham responded with a small shake of his head but she spotted the upward curve creep from behind the frown. She studied him for a moment her tongue running across her bottom lip and moved across the floor. Her steps were muffled with the thick imported rugs from Dorne. They had served her well, soft enough to serve for times more adventurous than on the bed. Once at his side she hooked a finger where the armour plate begun at his neck. She pulled him down to lock her lips with his and she laughed breathlessly between breaks as he responded fervently. She pulled away teasingly despite his nuzzling for another and started for the door.

'Will I be seeing you tonight?' He called after her with notable heavy breathing. Regina paused, a devilish smile creasing her features.

'I'll be waiting.'


	9. 9 KILLIAN

_A shout out to kendraCs! I moved the Killian's chapter forward as I really do appreciate your awesome reviews. Thank you to everyone who continues reading!_

KILLIAN

Killian tilted his head with a devilishly prominent smirk as he watched his still nameless prisoner sleep, a bit too peacefully. The pirate captain was leaning against a propped mop with the stiff fronds splayed across the boards of his cabin. A clean, metal bucket dangled from his other hand and he stood there silently while he debated on whether to wake the blonde beauty up. It didn't take him long to decide.

'By the gods you are hideous when you sleep.' He muttered to himself as he moved to squat by the edge of the bed. Her hair had fallen over her eyes in sticky clumps and her top lip was pushed back and up against the rough spun linen of the pillow. 'Rise and shine love, a certain rum guzzler needs to clean their mess and it's certainly not me.'

'Pissth off.' She managed after a grumbling moan and screwed her eyes shut even tighter as she turned her back to him. Killian rolled his eyes and sent a poke to her back with the handle of the mop.

'You and that disgustingly dirty body of yours have stunk out my bed for long enough, so I suggest you get up and start the day with that glorious smile.' He quipped sarcastically, as she honestly didn't really have anything to smile about. Apart from being in his presence of course, who wouldn't want to smile at that?

'Your bed? Mmm, nice and cosy.' She said dreamily to mock him and shifted to snuggle more comfortably into his thick mattress. Killian ran his tongue across his teeth in mild amusement and annoyance. If Saan ever asked him to do something like this again he would flat out refuse.

'I'm serious. It's not just my boots that reek of vomit now come on, get up!' He urged poking her back once again but instead of moving, she flailed her arm to try and slap him away.

'Poke me again and I'll aim for your face next time.' She huffed in retort and pulled the blanket around her as she curled up. Killian was not about to let her get away with it. He straightened and set the bucket aside so he could try and pull the blanket from her. She cursed at him but held fast and he wondered why the hell he was putting himself through this. She was becoming more trouble then she was worth.

'You know, I didn't want to do this but you leave me no choice…' He sighed, picking up the bucket and turned while scanning the room.

'Wait, no! Fine, I'm up!' She suddenly called out to him. He turned with a raised eyebrow at her plea and watched humorously as she threw the blanket back with an annoyed sigh.

'That was easier than I thought.' He said surprisingly and she glared at him as she pushed her hair out of the way and tucked it behind her ears.

'Well I didn't want to be soaked first thing in the morning now did I?' She countered and hearing that Killian stifled a laugh. 'What?' She questioned with furrowed brows.

'What did you think I was going to do?' He asked, shaking his head with a grin as he studied her unwavering and less than impressed expression.

'Don't laugh at me! You were going to throw water on me…weren't you?' She started gruffly but dwindled into uncertainty.

'Actually no, I was just going to rattle the bucket…' He winked and picked up the breadknife and rattled it against the sides. 'Not nice is it? Would have woken you up for sure!' He called over the racket. She stormed across to snatch the bucket from his hands with some crude insult that was too mumbled to hear properly. 'There you go, wasn't so hard was it?' He leaned in to whisper teasingly. He could see that she was debating on whether to hit him but something must have held her back.

'Are you going to let me pass then?' She asked haughtily and grabbed the mop that he was leaning on.

'Not looking like that. You'll probably blind a few gulls.' Killian scoffed after studying her for a moment. The dress she was wearing, or rather what was left of it, would have been blue if not for the cracked mud, dust and goodness knows what else. She didn't have any boots but someone must have given her some makeshift footwear out of some wraps that were beginning to fall apart. He was answered with the thwack of the mop.

'Do you act like an idiot all the time or is it just a morning thing?' She questioned. She was lucky that he were a good natured pirate. A thwack of the mop on another of Saan's ships would have earned her far more than a hearty laugh.

'Now, now, play nice. Wouldn't want to have you back in shackles now would we?' He replied in his own version of a threat. There was enough sternness behind it for her to know that it wasn't empty. He couldn't have his crew seeing a woman hitting him after all. He still had his reputation to uphold despite his sympathy for her in this situation. He furthered the threat with warning stare before moving to his personal chest and piled some of his own spare clothes onto the bed. 'Big but they'll do. Soap and wash basin in the corner, although the soap doesn't really smell of much. Scrub up then off to work you go.'

'Th-'

'Go on, what do you what to possibly complain about now?' He asked with a blunt sigh, just waiting for the spurt of sarcasm or vitriolic statement. He didn't have a brush or fitting clothes but they would do. He didn't have to do anything he reminded himself.

'I was only going to say thank you!' She replied defensively but he could see the gratitude behind those highly built up barriers of hers. Without another word but a small nod, Killian left his cabin closing the door behind him. He always kept his crew busy so they wouldn't even notice his prisoner troubles.

He stepped out into the middle of the deck and breathed in the fresh salt of the air. That was why he loved the sea. It tasted of freedom and adventure. It also tasted of her bloody vomit! He glanced back at his cabin and scratched at the hairs that bearded his well groomed chin. A mischievous idea managed to sneak its way up into his thoughts. A warning flashed by with the words of Salladhor had told him before he left. _You can look but you can't touch. _Well, he was only going to take a look…

He moved as silently as he could back across the deck and situated himself by the crack of the door hinge and tried to peer inside. He didn't even get a chance to see anything when something heavy thudded against the door and he jumped backwards, a curse slipping past his lips.

'I can see your shadow you dirty, spying bastard!' Her voice shouted to him from inside and he chuckled to himself as he retreated back to the helm, a bit disappointed at his failed attempt.

'Is she feeling better this morning Captain?' Smee inquired as he bundled up beside him. Other Captains sneered at him for his choice of first mate. Most chose the strongest among the crew that could break two barrels with his bare hands. Smee was useful to him in his own weird way, last night being one of those odd occurrences. His ship wouldn't be the same without him.

'Back to her usual charming self.' He answered him and the short dumpy man laughed before helping some of the men tighten the knots that held up the sails.

Captain Killian Greyjoy spent the next half hour crunching on numerous apples that they had loaded on from Pentos. He was on his third as he leaned against the rigging, peering out at sea with his spyglass. A shadow flicked across his view on the horizon but was instantly forgotten when he heard the closing of a door.

She looked up at him with small, awkward shrug of a smile. He could see that the sway of the ship was still affecting her but at least she wasn't throwing up. She'd tucked his shirt into the trousers and tightened them with his belt. Her hair was still damp from when she'd washed it. As she stood there, the salt that hung in the breeze tightened the waves of her brightened blonde curls. Saying that she scrubbed up well was an understatement. He swallowed the apple in his mouth and snapped his spyglass shut before sauntering down to greet her.

'I'll fill this up shall I?' She asked holding up the bucket as he approached. He took it from her and quickly tied a rope to it before lowering it into the sea and pulling it back up filled with water. 'Where's the cabin again?' She looked about unsurely.

'Follow the smell, you'll find it soon enough.' He answered with a smirk as he tipped some of the water back over the side before handing it to her. She rolled her eyes before taking the bucket and sure enough she found it without his direction. He swiped another apple from the sack before following her down and found her, sleeve pressed up against her mouth.

'You weren't joking.' She coughed pushing the mop into the bucket. There were multiple words he could use to describe the congealing mess but he didn't honestly want to put himself off his apple. If that hadn't already been done…

'We're taking you to Westeros, why I don't know but that's where I have to take you.' He spoke up after ten minutes of swishing water and apple munching. She looked back at him as if surprised by his sudden willingness to talk.

'If you don't know why then do you know who to?' She inquired glancing back down as she wrung the mop against the side of the bucket.

'Salladhor Saan, the Prince of the Narrow Sea instructed me to 'deliver' you back to Blackwater Bay but that's where my knowledge ends.' He didn't want to voice his suspicions in case of scaring her. It had to be a wealthy benefactor at the very least if Saan was interested. Those of wealth inside King's Landing were not people you wanted to be in business with for long. There was a reason they had that power. She didn't answer him just swiped at her brow before continuing. 'You missed a spot.' He said casually but he couldn't help the grin as she snapped back at him with an eyebrow raised.

'Seriously? Why the hell are you watching me mop a floor anyway? Hoping I'll take my top off in the sweltering heat?' She countered but Killian didn't have the chance to offer back a witty comment. A resounding holler of one of his crew members echoed from up deck. Not the kind of shout that he wanted to hear. He rushed up to see what was happening and he didn't need to ask to know what the problem was. That speck of shadow he had glimpsed through his spyglass was a speck no longer. The forever nearing shape of a ship was pursuing them across the waves. If he hadn't been bloody distracted!

'You having some ship envy? That one is twice the size of yours.' She chirped up from the side of him but seeing the grim look on his face she frowned. 'What's wrong? Are we in trouble?'

'We're in trouble alright.' Killian's frown only deepened as not too far in the distance the black and gold kraken fluttered a top the mast of the rival ship. No, not just any ship…A Greyjoy.


	10. 10 GOLD

GOLD

As he waited for the raven, Maester Gold warmed his numbing hands with the white wisps of his hot breath. It didn't matter how tall the Eyrie stood, the air was still not fresh but thin and barely breathable. The height of the stone tower made even the warmest day cold or that was what it felt like to the Maester who was used to the warmer climates down South.

'Come on…' He whispered to the night in hope that the raven he was suspecting would arrive before his absence was noted. His new position in thought should have taken him from the eye of the political public as the truth to his service to the realm had begun to unravel. In reality it had only created more distraction for the man with a bigger purpose. A pleasantly surprising but unplanned and unwanted distraction. Lady Belle Arryn if he were to be more exact. She was drawing him with such kindness that he had never experienced but she was so much more than that…

His thoughts were interrupted with a cawing that was soon followed with the batting of feathers. The raven landed on the perch beside him and Gold reached for message about its talon. He unrolled the chalky parchment in his fingers and stood over the small light that threatened to snuff out. His eyes widened as he read the words, so simple but enough to force him to read them numerous times with increasing anger. He let out a frustrated growl that echoed in the small confinements of the Eyrie's raven tower. Then he crumpled the parchment in his hand not wanting to see the words again.

_The Saviour has been lost. She crosses the sea to your Seven._

All that work and planning for nothing! He had helped the foretold prophecy of the Seven Kingdoms come into motion and the saviour wasn't ready for it to come to light yet. She may be lost to the undying guardians but now Maester Gold would have to ensure that she returned or be kept from harm until the prophecy came to pass. Taking the small candle holder in his hands he descended the keep back down the steps to his quarters.

'Maester Gold is that you?' The hearty voice of one of the guards sounded from beside him as he stepped inside. Gold was startled slightly by the sudden voice but tried to act accordingly without seeming suspicious. 'You shouldn't be in the tower this late at night Maester, it gets dreadfully cold.' He chirped with a grin. During his time here he had tried to learn the names of those surrounding him. He recalled the man's name to be Ronan. Thank the gods he hadn't questioned his actions. Although it might not seem abnormal for him to be in the raven tower, just the hour that he be there.

'I shall remember to wear my gloves on my next visit,' Gold nodded with a small forced smile. He didn't want to seem rude so he stayed for a moment in hope to steer his thoughts in another direction.

'That's why I wear these on my nightly watches.' Ronan continued to grin as he clapped his thick gloved hands together. There was a reason why Ronan was placed in the guard. He was quite dim-witted and lacked the skills of a higher position. What he lacked in brains however he gained in brawn and honesty.

'I may talk with the seamstress and ask for such a fine pair as yours,' He complimented but that seemed enough polite talk to ascertain no cause for concern. 'If you will excuse me I must get back to my quarters.' He said not too quickly and turned from the guard to start back.

'Oh Maester, you dropped this!' The guard called to him a few moments later and Maester Gold froze. He glanced down at his now empty hand where the parchment had been. He must have dropped it when he had been startled! He turned but Ronan had already closed the space between them with his hand outstretched.

'How foolish of me, many thanks Ronan.' He covered politely and as he took the note in his hands he waited anxiously for the questioning. That was if he had looked at what was scrawled on there or could even read them for that matter. If he had any questions he didn't ask them but he couldn't be sure if he was just holding back. Ronan merely nodded before walking past him to continue his patrols.

Ronan had just unwillingly become a problem. If he had seen and read the words on that parchment then he was going to have to be dealt with. Even if he didn't understand them a whisper in the right ear could mean disaster for his plans and the saviour would then be truly lost. The troubled Maester walked back to his quarters as he mulled over both new problems that had arisen.

He had laboured over his own quill and parchment for the coming night and into the morning. He had to think of what steps to take next. They had to be quick and effective if the future was to remain in tact. He had finally just begun writing as the time for breakfast neared, when he heard quickened footsteps sound across the stone outside. His quarters were away from other rooms so he didn't usually hear such patter. A few moments later and a flurry of knocks rattled against the wood of his door.

'Maester, come quickly, its milady s-she has…' The servant didn't even get a chance to finish before Gold was on his feet and hastening toward the door. He picked up his apothecary box on the way out and it jostled in his hands. Belle? That could only mean that she had been injured in some way! If it were to talk of any other matter she would have come herself.

'What's happened? Where is she?' He demanded, his voice wavering a little as he pushed past her and started to journey down the steps. His breathing soon became heavy but the servant quickly caught up with him.

'In her r-room. S-she's…s-she's been h-hurt…the the…' The woman stammered trying to talk and catch her breath at the same time.

'I have no time for this stammering!' He scorned her wanting to know what had happened before he got there. His stomach was twisting with nerves and anxiety for her safety and he didn't have the patience to wait for what was wrong.

'The man that was put in those sky cells yesterday… he escaped and milady she…' She panted and the Maester decided that he had enough of her and waved her off before quickly making his way to Belle's room. Several people were crowded around her bed when he entered and he was instantly greeted by Belle's flustered handmaiden.

'Oh Maester Gold its terrible, the man came from nowhere, milady tried to calm him down but he hit her with the sconce, right across the head with it. There was nothing I could do, the…' She started to tear up so Gold ordered for her to be taken from the room and everyone else to leave also.

Once they had bustled out he went straight to Belle Arryn's side. She was limp across the bed in unconsciousness and the left side of her face was streaked with blood where the gash at her eye had streamed. Despite her injury he let out a few shaky breaths of relief that the attack hadn't been more serious. For a moment he had thought the situation far worse.

The chain about his neck tinkled as he sat beside her on the bed and leaned down. He started to clear away the blood efficiently with gentle strokes of a dampened compress which he had sent for. He slowly traced the outline of her cheek and down carefully at the soft lines of her jaw. Lost in her beauty he let the staining white rag brush across her lips. She talked to him as if she had known him for years, found interest in every word he uttered and even laughed at his jests that others raised an eyebrow at. He pulled himself from the fantasy of being able to kiss those lips and continued in the work at hand. When he reached the more sensitive area by the seeping cut, the peaceful sleeping features of her face creased into a wince and she stirred with a moan into consciousness. Her hand went to her head but Maester Gold reached to take her hand and eased it down to her side.

'We don't want to make it worse my lady.' He soothed as she flinched slightly at his touch. She softened however, when she opened her eyes to see him beside her.

'Maester…' She sighed quietly knowing that she was in safe hands. Her lips twitched up into a weak smile and he found it difficult to not return it. 'W-What happened? I remember walking down to breakfast with Bette and then…oh…' She realised and winced in memory.

'Oh indeed.' He smirked faintly as he rummaged around for his specialised needle and thread. 'Quite the nasty cut, can you sit up for me my lady? Two stitches shall do it or would you rather the milk of the poppy?' He asked as it wouldn't be a painless experience.

'I won't be needing milk of the poppy thank you,' She insisted and he spotted the small furrow of her brow as she masked what he guessed as a dull aching throb; normal of course with an injury like that. 'Has my father been told?' She asked as she sat up and shifted closer to him.

'I don't believe so; it is only a matter of time before he is however.' He replied with a frown. Lord Arryn had returned the night before and had only spoken a few words to him before retiring.

'I'm afraid that he will seek to place blame on someone, seeing as the man escaped.' She sighed and even though he was focused on threading the needle, he was aware of her curious gaze on him.

'Someone must be at fault my lady, this could have been far worse.' He noted and thankfully he stopped the slight nerved shaking of his hands to steady her head in one hand and applied the stitches with the other.

'But it wasn't and I know my father's wrath when it comes to such matters.' She countered and her eyes flickered shut for a brief moment at his touch. He remained silent as he sealed the cut and he was surprised that she had barely even flinched. He let his hand drop to his lap and with the other he dabbed the sewn wound with a gentle touch. Thankfully he didn't think the area would scar but that wasn't what Lord Arryn saw when he arrived.

The door slammed open and Belle's father enveloped the room with his presence. To look at he didn't seem an intimidating man but his actions often proved otherwise. One glance at his daughter was enough to enrage him.

'I demand to know who is responsible for this! Has the bastard been caught?' He raged, the tension was palpable and one of the guards informed him that the escaped man had been dealt with immediately. 'A shame I would have liked to run the blade through him myself. What guard was on duty of the cells this morning?' He inquired with his anger still no ceasing. Gold watched as Belle rose from the bed to stand before her father.

'Can't we let the matter to rest father? The prisoner has been dealt with and I am fine now.' She urged and glanced back to Gold to reassure Lord Arryn.

'No, I cannot. A breach in my guard nearly cost you your life Belle and I will punish whoever is responsible.' He said it with such authority that the Maester thought the conversation was at an end but once again Belle proved herself misplaced in terms of the house. She was as courageous as the kingly Lannister.

'It is no fault but my own. I will not have someone punished for my own actions. Father please listen to reason if you-' She held her hands out pleadingly but her father judged this as weakness and further drove him to action.

'I am reason and you will do as you are told child!' He shouted at her before turning to the guards at his side. 'Now, I will have a name for whoever jeopardised my daughter and heir to the Eyrie's life!' He commanded them. Maester Gold had never been one to ignore fate. Whether this was a placed opportunity or mere coincidence…he took the chance.

'Ronan.' Maester Gold's voice said distinctly over the cacophony of others. 'It was Ronan my lord.'


	11. 11 EMMA

EMMA

Trouble. By the looks of things they were in deep and probably life threatening trouble. No, it wasn't the fact that there was a ship twice their size heading toward them that gave Emma that idea, or the way the crew were scrambling around the deck like they'd just dropped their balls. They certainly added to the impression but it was the unfaltering look of fear creasing the Captain's eyes that cinched it. He might have tried to hide it from his crew but she was no fool. As if her problems weren't already bad enough…

Cornered against his cabin doors the unknown princess could only watch the pirates' attempts to outrun the pursuing ship, her heart thudding in time with the scurrying feet. This would now be the second time when death seemed to loom on her horizon and it was in no way easier than the first. Her worried thoughts were constantly being interrupted by bouts of the Captain's harsh voiced orders and the odd muttered prayer of some men as they passed her. In theory they had the advantage being the smaller ship and therefore should be faster but the kraken didn't seem to be getting any further away.

'Can't this stupid ship go any faster?' She called to him with increasing anxiety over the cacophony of noise. The Captain seemed to be locked in his own trance, playing to a personal rhythm of the sea as the rudders of the helm counterbalanced in his hands. He still registered her voice however.

'My perfectly hand crafted vessel is going as fast as she can!' He countered through gritted teeth. On the edge of disaster and the man was defending his ship with wounded pride as if it were his child.

'Well the bigger perfectly hand crafted vessel isn't going away!' Emma argued her gaze flickering from him to their pursuer. What would happen if they caught up with them? Would they kill her? Would they kill all of them? Or it could be worse…for her anyway.

'Don't you think I know that?! I'm not blind love,' He yelled back and she took a moment to realise that like her, he used sarcasm as a mechanism to hide what he was really feeling.

'Why can't you just…I don't know, throw some stuff overboard to make it go faster?' She suggested in a flailing panic. Did she mention that she hated the sea?

'Volunteering are you?' He scoffed. That was a no then… 'Now, will you just shut up and let me do my job?' He added and she huffed feeling utterly useless. She wasn't about to stand there and do nothing though. The man that the Captain had named Smee or idiot more than anything really was struggling to fasten a knot at the mast. Seizing the opportunity she rushed over to ease the pressure at the rough tendons of weaved rope. Emma grunted as it burned in her hands but he soon tied it and panted a thanks before carting off to do something else. She rubbed her hands into her not very well fitting trousers but as she did so she noticed something.

'They're turning…' She mumbled in confusion to herself. 'They're turning!' She called louder looking up at the Captain with a laugh of relief. She didn't want to think as to the reason but why else would they turn around if not to leave? Her Captain caught the wheel in his hand for a moment to let his piercing blue gaze rest on her before he looked with a furrowed brow to the sea at his back. His confusion instantly gave way to alarm.

'Get down! Everyone get down now!' He exclaimed and she noticed that his voice was hoarse from all the shouting. Emma watched not quite understanding as he careened away from the helm and jumped down onto the lower deck. She didn't even have the chance to react as his arms enveloped her and he pulled her down with him to the deck.

'What the he-' Emma couldn't finish her protest as what started as a stifled boom from behind them ended with a splintering crack against the mast. A canon had torn right through the thick wooden pole, instantly severing the main sail. She felt his arms around her tighten as she glimpsed from behind the musty leather of his coat the remains topple and crash over them.

'Are you alright?' His gasp was muffled against the collar of her shirt. Emma had a pain in her shoulder from when she had hit the wooden boards but she wouldn't complain. She could have just been decapitated or impaled by a falling mast after all.

'Yeah…' Emma managed suffering from an element of shock. She desperately tried to push aside the fact that he was laying on top of her and looked up at the sail that had blanketed the ship. It shaded the sun casting them in a warm orange glow. It would have been strangely beautiful if not for the fact that they were still in danger of being killed.

'No need to thank me, I couldn't let that pretty face go to waste,' He panted with a grin as he pushed himself up onto his hands. Still a little too close for comfort, the faint smell of rum was on his breath as his chest still heaved but she was captured for that moment in his eyes as he stared down at her. 'Are you picturing this on my bed with fewer clothes on? Because I am.' Moment ruined. Emma shook her head with a scoffing sigh as she pushed him off.

'Ship, broken mast, probable death, remember?' She cursed the Captain in disbelief as she lifted herself up. This man must be insane, he was thinking about sex just as they were all about to die…well actually of course that was what a man like him would think about. As if to remind him another canon fired narrowly missing the ship but it spurred him back into action. He jumped to his feet and his eyes flickered across the broken ship, she noticed a moment of utter loss and defeat. A moment ago this had been his most precious possession and now no one knew if they were going to make it past the next sunrise.

'Arm yourselves lads! We're going to wet our steel with their blood and show them what it means when you pick fight with Captain Killian Greyjoy!' He hollered out to them to raise morals before taking her hand and dragging her along behind him.

'What the hell?! Where are you taking me?' She protested digging in her heels and ducking to avoid the collapsed canvas. She dared a look back and swallowed with fear. The enemy ship was close enough now to see the men aboard waiting for a bloody sea battle and they battered their weapons at the side to create a monstrous sound. If the survived this then it would be a miracle.

'You are still in my care love and I'll be damned if I let you die on my watch.' His smirk had faltered down to a grim but determined, hard set frown. She finally managed to struggle out of his grasp once he had pulled her to his cabin that was still accessible.

'If everyone else is going to fight then I want to as well!' Emma objected to his back as he rummaged in his chest.

'You'd make a good pirate,' He glanced back to smirk faintly but sighed as he seemed to have found what he had been looking for. 'But no, I can't risk you dying unnecessarily. You're obviously important to someone otherwise they wouldn't have gone through all this trouble.' He tossed a small bottle in his hands and then his face became unreadable to her.

'What's that?' She asked crossing her arms against her with a gesturing nod toward the bottle. 'I sure hope its some magic potion that will solve all this shit we have to deal with.' It must be something serious otherwise he would have smirked at that…but he didn't. Before he answered the shout from outside were getting louder.

'I don't have much time. Listen, there is a good chance that we'll all die, a small chance that we might not.' His voice lowered as he stepped toward her. 'You will stay here, on y orders you will stay. If they break in here then you know that I'm dead…and if that does happen, you have to take this.' He handed her the bottle with a solemn expression.

'I d-don't understand…' Emma's brows furrowed as she turned the liquid in her hand. She didn't like where this was going at all. He had been full of fierce tenacity outside but away from the crew he had deflated and it scared her rigidly.

'There are some fates worse than death,' He muttered before walking past her. Poison. He had given her poison so she could kill herself if they got to her? Emma wanted to protest that she would never do such a thing, she would never give up no matter what. Yet he was right, she didn't even want to imagine what would happen if a crew full of bloodthirsty men found her alive…

'What do they even want? If they're pirates then shouldn't you be friends or something? I don't understand why all this is happening!' She argued weakly pushing back the threat of tears in her eyes. This was a time to stay strong and that was exactly what she was going to do. He didn't even answer her questions, as if he knew but didn't want to tell her. A reason that she wouldn't like to hear.

'When all this is over maybe you can then tell me your name?' He said quietly instead from behind her. She turned just in time to capture that brief flicker of a smile. There was a moment of silence, excluding the rhythmic beat of steel and shouts outside and Emma bit her lip as she looked down at her hands.

'Killian wait, my name…' She started and looked up to find that he had already gone. She rushed up to the door and pushed on it but the bastard had moved something in front of the doors so she couldn't get out. 'You stupid pirate let me out!' She kicked at the door but it was no use. She ran to the porthole at the end of the cabin and peered out to try and see what was happening. The sea had gone and in its place were the weather worn boards of another ship.

The roars from outside were suddenly louder and it felt as if the ship dipped with the weight of the arrival. Words couldn't even begin to describe what she was feeling but she had nearly thrown up with the nerves as she seemed to just wait for death to come knocking on the door. With every passing moment that seemed to stretch interminably she paced, clawed at her hair with bursts of fear and had ended up curled on Killian's bed with his musty, salty scented blanket wrapped around her.

The sound of battle was diminishing and finally Emma let herself shed a tear in a soft whimper as they couldn't have possibly been victorious. Her heart caught in her mouth as blood curdling cheers that she didn't recognise rattled from beyond the doorway, the only thing that was keeping her safe. They were dead…he was dead…and now she would die. She could hear a muffled, sure sounded voice and then slowly, a grinding scraping of wood. They were coming into the cabin, they would find her…she swallowed and sat up with shaking breaths that she couldn't control. The bottle tremored in her hands as she removed the cork. Tears streaked down her face as she raised the bottle to her lips.

'Take it! Please say you've taken it!' Killian's guttural cry cut through everything and seemed to echo in her ears. The bottle lowered… He was alive? They hadn't killed him and yet he was telling her to take it? She put the cork back into the bottle and tucked it into one of her boots.

Not knowing the reason as to why, she charged toward the door; picking up a spare sword from the chest. Shaking away the last of her fears she kicked the door as hard as she could. She was rewarded with an almighty cry as it seemed to have connected with someone who was standing behind it. Pushing her way out of the cabin she was met with the aftermath of their war at sea. Corpses littered the floor of men she recognised and those she didn't surrounded her with harsh lined faces. There was one face that she recognised and he was alive, she caught his horrified eyes at seeing her there. A gash at his head had streaked down his face and he was trussed up against the stump of the mast. Emma brandished the sword but it was taken from her before she could even do anything and she winced as her hair was tugged into unknown hands.

'What is this woman to you _Greyjoy?' _The gritty owner of the hands mocked him, spitting blood at her feet. It was him she had hit then.

'A poor excuse of a whore from Pentos.' He answered tearing his gaze from her. She resisted the urge to object knowing that he was trying to protect her in some god awful way. A whore though? That was just asking for the whole crew to grind themselves into her.

'You're lying!' The man spat pulling on her head harder and she bit on her tongue to hold back the pain.

'What reason do I have for lying?!' Killian bit back struggling against the bonds that tied him. It was honestly a heart breaking to see the same man who had laughed with his crew only this morning in this position. Now surrounded with the dead bodies of his crew, his ship in ruins and his life hanging in the balance of the men who did it.

'I'm a bastard corrupted with the magic of the undying.' She answered for him, knowing that the pretence wouldn't last. His eyes flashed angrily to her and Emma looked away but mouthed an apology to him.

'Why are you here?' The man was addressing her now, his threatening voice rough in her ear. She saw only one way to possibly save them both. If she deemed them valuable them perhaps they would see the situation differently.

'Don't.' Killian's voice warned her but she ignored him. He was greeted with punch across the face from a nearby man however and she closed her eyes as she spoke next.

'The Captain was transporting me as an important passenger to Westeros, as order by Saan.' She had remembered the name but had no other information about the man or the deal. The greedy faces of the other men looked to the man holding her. He was in charge? It made it even better that she had hurt him. He had come to a decision although he hadn't voiced it.

'If you know what's good for you boy, you'll tell us the truth from now on,' He snarled at Killian as he dragged her over to him. 'And you're a good little girl aren't you? I'll be seeing you later.' He smirked, not like the playful smirk of her Captain, no this was darker and it made Emma's stomach turn. She was thrust from him and she stumbled to the floor beside Killian before the victorious leader sauntered away to bark orders.

'Why didn't you take it?' Killian whispered to her but it wasn't a question that she could answer. She huddled closer to him, her knees drawn up to her chest. She rested her head against his shoulder and she felt his tenseness soften.

'Emma, my name is Emma.'


End file.
